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Humble Apostleship

“It is not this way among you…”

So, you want to be an apostle? In our culture titles usually signify accomplishments or achievements through many years of dedication, sacrifice and perseverance. Doctors, judges, politicians and military rank are a few that come to mind. In our Christian culture today we often deem apostles as great leaders of churches or church movements around the world. Some religious sects believe there were only the original apostles in Jesus day and after they died there were no more. On the other hand, many self appointed apostles will shake your hand and give you a card that says “Apostle So and So” as they proceed to tell all kinds of stories that seem to insinuate how important they are. God bless them.
The dictionary defines apostle as “sent one.” It is my understanding that in the Roman conquest to acquire and rule the land, they found it necessary to assimilate the conquered people into the Roman culture. A means of maintaining order and control was changing the heathens mindset so they would totally adapt into the Roman culture. It reminds me of what the Babylon King did with Daniel and the boys. Everything needed to change, so the Roman authorities appointed officials and sent them throughout the conquered regions to establish the rule and reign of Rome. This was the root of the word “apostle,” the very word Jesus strategically used to describe the ones He chose to usher in a Kingdom culture on the earth. In writing to Corinth, the Apostle Paul gives us a clear path to identify true apostles.

For, I think, God has exhibited us apostles last of all, as men condemned to death; because we have become a spectacle to the world, both to angels and to men. We are fools for Christ sake, but you are prudent in Christ; we are weak, but you are strong; you are distinguished, but we are without honor. To this present hour we are both hungry and thirsty, and are poorly clothed, and are roughly treated, and are homeless; and we toil, working with our own hands; when we are reviled, we bless; when we are persecuted, we endure; when we are slandered, we try to conciliate; we have become as scum of the world, the dregs of all things, even until now.
(1 Corinthians 4:9-13)

If you are interested in becoming an apostle, I’ve extracted a set of job qualifications as follows:

1. Have you been put on display by God as men condemned to die?
2. Have you become a spectacle to the world, men and angels?
3. Are you a fool for Christ?
4. Are you weak?
5. Are you without honor?
6. Are you hungry and thirsty?
7. Are you poorly clothed?
8. Are you roughly treated?
9. Are you homeless?
10. Do you work extremely hard with your own hands?
11. Do you bless when you are criticized and abused?
12. Do you keep on going in spite of persecution?
13. Do you try to reconcile with the ones that lie about you?
14. Have you become as worthless scum of the world?

Pretty tough qualifications, wouldn’t you agree? For me, this brings to light scriptures like, “I’ve been crucified with Christ,” “Pick up your cross daily,” “Count the cost.” Being an apostle is definitely not as glamorous as some pretend it to be. Glorified “titles” seem to create a false identity that thrive on the accolades of men but miss the grace of God. However, a truly surrendered life receives praise from God. (Vs.5)  Now, if you skip down to verse 16, Paul writes:  “Therefore, I exhort you, be imitators of me.”

Wait! What???  That’s asking a lot Mr. Paul!

Jesus said it best as He gathered the ones He called apostles and related to them their true purpose and destiny.

But Jesus called them to Himself and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and great men exercise authority over them. It is not this way among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and give His life a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:25-28)

Just my opinion, but probably most true apostles are hidden. They probably avoid the lime light and would never consider taking on a title. Probably, these who quietly serve would not even consider themselves to be apostles. To love and to serve is in the fiber of their being and they do it naturally and genuinely. They expect nothing in return. Quietly and effectively the culture changes.

So shall it be. Peace to you.

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The Art of Listening

“So take care how you listen…” (Luke 8:18)

I remember when our sons were young, they both overflowed with so much imagination and creativity. They continuously entertained us as make believe super heroes, adorned in elaborate costumes and speaking hilariously in these low but squeaky cartoon like voices. Their friends and acquaintances came to life inside their untainted imaginations as they carried on serious and profound conversations. We even found ourselves listening and joining in. Even today the whole family laughs together as we remember Fuffy the bear and Hanger the monkey soaring overhead, coming to our rescue in their magnificent flying machine. We cherish the memories and are somewhat befuddled at how fast time flies and how quickly young boys grow into men. In the midst of all their antics, I realize now my sons weren’t so much trying to impress us as they just longed for our full attention. It’s true though, the busyness of life robs us of those precious moments. Have you ever had a two year old put their two little hands on your face and turn your head so you will look at them and give them your full attention? What a picture that paints.

A few years back, in Austin, a homeless lady on the street corner caught my attention. I parked the truck and walked across the busy street to greet her. Obviously she had been attractive in her earlier years and was extremely intelligent. She offered up no kind of scam and just seemed grateful to have someone to talk to. I remembered asking her, “How in the world did you end up on the street?” That’s all it took, one simple question, and for the next hour I sat and listened to her story. Again I realized what a fine line it is between having a comfortable, successful life compared to finding yourself helpless, desperate, and barely surviving on the street. I’ve not seen her since but I’m often reminded of that encounter and what she said in the end. Sobbingly, through tear filled eyes, she said, “You are the only person that has ever taken the time to listen to me. I love you. Thank you so much!” I remember holding it together pretty good until I got back in the truck where I proceeded to totally loose it.

The missionary, Jim Elliot is quoted as saying, “Wherever you are, be all there.” I’ve learned that listening is a developed skill. I’m not always successful, but when I remember, I try to give people my full attention, like Jim says, “Be all there.” Probably the most important quality in friendship, ministry, parenting and life in general is listening. Sometimes, in a conversation, I find myself so busy preparing in my mind what I want to say that I’m not really listening to what the other person is saying. Sometimes I just zone out in my own imagination and all I hear is a faint blah, blah, blah. Sad but true. Help me Jesus! Have you ever wondered how this might relate to our relationship with the Lord?

A few years ago I was asked to teach at a home gathering of University students. The house was bursting at the seams and I so wanted to give them something substantial to practice and hold on to. Later Joel (the Pastor) and myself adopted the name Four Fifteen. In the world we eat and the result is we are full and satisfied. In the Kingdom of God, the more you eat spiritually the hungrier we stay. Just as a starting place I encouraged them to practice these disciplines for fifteen minutes each day, (1)PRAY…(2)STUDY THE BIBLE…(3)TALK TO SOMEONE ABOUT JESUS…(4)BE STILL AND LISTEN TO HOLY SPIRIT.

Surprisingly, listening generated the most feedback and the most questions. I do love this new generation of Christ followers! They are completely out of the box with no limits.  

However, on the flip side of this, when we pray, we correctly assume we have Our Father’s full and utmost attention. It’s true, the Lord is absolutely moved by our prayers! He listens, He cares, He responds, He loves, He guides, He protects, He provides! ASK! SEEK! KNOCK! There is no end. Need I say more? So now it’s up to us to provide Him the opportunity to speak. And when He does speak, we purpose ourselves to be all there, giving Him our full and undivided attention. It’s just such a reciprocal relationship, we worship, we pray, on our face we cry out to the Lord. In essence we are taking our little hands and gently turning Our Heavenly Father’s face toward us, saying “Daddy please pay attention to me!” In perfect form, He places His strong hands on our face to turn our face toward Him as He gently whispers and often times shouts, “I love you child!”

“When You said, “Seek My face,” my heart said to You, “Your face O Lord, I shall seek.”

(Psalms 27:8)

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When Leather Meets the Net

Maple Street, Bellaire, Texas ~1965.
Picture this: an average ten year old boy on a narrow, cracked up driveway. Ball in hand, he furiously drives toward the basket -fully convinced by his own imagination. The clock is ticking down, the shot goes up, the crowd is silent and then, and then the sweetest sound in all of basketball…when leather meets the net. As the crowd explodes, the boy leaps jubilantly up and down the driveway in total elation.  Victory, my friends, is sweet! Living inside the imagination of a ten year old boy, the dreams and the possibilities are endless.

I’ve always loved the game. I coached both of my boys all the way through school. A group of us played in the local gym every Sunday afternoon for years where my oldest son affectionately named the game, “Geezer Ball.”

Recently, I saw a correlation between basketball and the church. In the Christian culture you hear the expression “Five fold ministry” quite often. One of the scriptures this is based on is,

 “And He gave some as apostles, and some as prophets, and some as evangelist, and some as pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of service to the building up of the body of Christ; until we all attain to the unity of the faith, and the knowledge of the Son of God, to a mature man, to the measure of the stature which belongs to the fullness of Christ.” -Ephesians 4:11-13

Wow, that’s a mouth full! I see five people equipping and I see five players on the court. Each player has a unique talent as well as a specific role. If one is missing or not fulfilling their role and responsibility then the whole team suffers. My ten year old imagination sees:

The point guard as an evangelist, the best ball handler, bringing the ball down court, accessing the defense and calling the plays.
The shooting guard– the prophet, the most skilled shooter, he often draws a lot of attention from the defense. He struggles to get open but when he does, he is either the hero or the goat.
The center– the apostle, the leader and solid foundation of the team. He stands taller than most and is able to see from a higher perspective. He is in the middle of the court and is involved in every aspect of the game. He is usually beat up a little more by the opposition but his ability to push and rally the team as well as make the clutch plays is the driving force that unifies the team.
The Forward and the strong forward -pastor and teacher, these are the most uncelebrated. They are in the trenches where the fiercest battle takes place. Discretely, they set picks, block out, rebound and sometimes make incredible passes. They are usually the best defensive players, they watch, they cover, they protect. They sacrifice for the good of the team, often without acknowledgement or gratitude. It seems the best ones like it that way.

And the coach, that’s the Holy Spirit! If a player doesn’t know and respond to the coach’s voice, then how is he going to know what to do? A player without a coach is lost and feels alone on the court with no sense of direction. What about the backups? Well they are not really backups, they are future champions. The starters responsibility is to set the bar higher, leading by example and to give the bench players a higher starting place.

Now that the whole team is in place, you have a shot at the championship. Wouldn’t it be ridiculous to have any less than five on the floor? Even if you had the skills of Jordan, one man could never expect to thrive or even survive alone. I admit, I love to watch superstars. They are ridiculously talented and completely entertaining but even the best of the best can’t sustain a winning season without playing as a team. Looking at the team as a whole, every player has to know how to dribble, to pass, to score, to play defense, and so forth but the key is to acknowledge each other’s strengths and to play to those strengths. The next step is to teach and reproduce those same strengths in the ones waiting in the wings. Recognizing and acknowledging their own unique gifts and talents and blending them with those already established makes for a vibrant dynamic and a winning combination.

The goal now is to have everyone involved. There is a disproportionate number of spectators and not enough players. Leaders -empowered by Holy Spirit- now have the responsibility and joy to reveal the hidden treasure in others and to facilitate their place on the wall. Each one is a “Living Stone,” and we must never feel threatened by someone soaring on the wings of an eagle right past us. We must remind our self no one can ever take our place on the wall. It is uniquely and eternally reserved for us alone.

“I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus!”

Recently I posted this thought, “Unless the whole body is active, you end up with a mouth blabbing away while the hand and foot atrophy, not being allowed to participate!” The mark of a secure leader is to create opportunities for those around us to experience and excel at the gift God has made them. The secret to team play, “Esteem others as greater than yourself.”

So I just heard the whistle blow, it’s time for the ten year old boy to run onto the court and dream again. Besides, we’ve got a game to win! And as I pause to pray for you, I see Jesus. He is smiling at you as he laces up your shoes. He believes in you and He is so proud of you. He pats you on the back and says, “Go get um tiger!”

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Leadership & Circus Tents

I assume in this life there are many categories of leaders.
Some bold, some quiet and possibly everything imaginable in between.
What I have learned is this, we all need leaders.
Although we are all on the same plane with God’s love, some are chosen and set apart to lead.

Leaders are not perfect.
Some lead with wisdom -some do not.
Some lead with integrity -some do not.
Most good leaders though, have learned through their mistakes, miscalculations, and misunderstandings.

Leaders are risk takers. It takes courage and a certain amount of confidence to lead. It takes even more courage to keep going after you’ve tripped a few times.

Most of my life I have been placed in a role of leadership.
This was nothing I determined to do, it just seemed to happen, preparation I suppose. When I entered into a Christian culture it only seemed natural to lead. Again, nothing I determined to do but I just found myself assuming a leadership role in the things we did. Life was not without challenges but God seemed to have me in the palm of His hand. I continued to push deeper into God until suddenly, everything changed. I think about the scripture, “Pride before the fall.” I can only question the cave I’ve lived in the last few years. Funny, I didn’t feel prideful, but I guess my loving Father was protecting me from myself and a puffed up ego. Looking back, lessons learned and wisdom gained in the cave are invaluable. When He says get wisdom and understanding, you have only to look in the cave. Persevering is the hard part, especially when many around you don’t fully understand. Like Job’s friends, many offer well meaning, misplaced advice. Clouded eyes make it hard to see that God might have had something to do with putting you in the cave and it’s even harder to understand why.
Trust is easy to say, much harder to live out.

As the season begins to change for me, I have become much more reluctant to lead.
It’s not that I’m afraid of man because that part of me has been crucified. Now I struggle with the fear of the Lord. I am so weary of not being in complete union with Him. I want to be led only by the Holy Spirit and never by the flesh. I so connect with Gideon in the wine press, hiding, unsure, not fully realizing who he was or what he was called to do. Still the word of the Lord rings true…”My grace is sufficient. My power is made perfect in weakness.”

In weakness some leaders are reluctant to lead. That seems to be the category I fit into these days. It’s like blind faith fueled by the whisper of His voice that is keeping me going. Jeremiah reminds me daily that my Father’s plans for me are good…really good! In my reluctance, I look at the cross of the crucified Christ. I remember my friendship with Jesus and how kind He is and how He is my biggest cheerleader. His smile melts away all my fear. I tell myself, “Self it’s time you start believing what you preach, that we are created on purpose and with purpose!”

So when He whispers, Put up a tent in the field. I say, yes Sir.
He says, I want you to start meeting on Friday nights and share a meal together. My response is, yes Sir.

Julie and I don’t know what we are doing or where we are headed. What we do know is where Jesus leads, we will follow. Coincidently, I stumbled upon this quote this morning that really speaks to my heart.
It’s by General George S. Patton.

A man must know his destiny. If he does not recognize it, then he is lost. By this I mean, once, twice, or at the very most, three times, fate will reach out and tap a man on the shoulder. If he has the imagination, he will turn around and fate will point out to him what fork in the road he should take. If he has guts, he will take it!

May the Lord become your wildest dream!

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Daily Reminders

  1. I was created to look and act like my Heavenly Father. 
Then God said, ‘Let us make man in Our image, and according to Our likeness;” (Gen. 1:26)
  2. I talk to my Heavenly Father everyday, and He talks to me. 
“Call to me and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things which you do not know.” (Jer. 33:3)
  3. I have a bright future filled with hope. 
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.”
  4. I am forgiven. 
As far as the east is from the west, so far He removed our transgression from us. (Ps. 103:12)
  5. I have purpose. 
“You did not choose Me but I chose you, and appointed you that you would go and bear fruit, and your fruit would remain, so that whatever you ask of the Father in My name He may give you. (John 15:16)
  6. I do great things like Jesus does.
“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do, he will do also; and 
greater than these he will do; because I go to the Father.” (John 14:12)
  7. I am a citizen of heaven. 
For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. (Phil. 3:20)
  8. I am Royalty. 
But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light;” (1 Pet. 2:9)
  9. I entertain Angels. 
Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it. (Heb. 13:2)
  10. I know the Son of God. And we know that the Son of God has come, and has given us understanding so that we may know Him who is true; (1 John 5:20)
  11. I have an inheritance. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you,… (1 Peter 1:3-4)
  12. I have a new name. “…To him who overcomes, to him I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, and a new name written on the stone which no one knows but he who receives it.” (Rev. 2:17)
  13. I have a Helper. “When the Helper comes, whom I will send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father, He will testify about Me, and you will testify also, because you have been with Me from the beginning.” (John 15:26-27)
  14. I am seated in heavenly places. But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved) and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. (Eph. 2:4-7)
  15. I am loved. We have come to know and have believed the love which God has for us. God is love, and the one who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.
(1 John 4:16)
  16. I have eternal life. “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

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A Bridge of Hope

2:00 A.M.
I was awakened by the whisper of God. Outside the wind was whipping and the rain was pounding loudly on the tin roof. With urgency in my spirit, I quickly dressed. Pulled on my boots, grabbed my hat, kissed my sleepy eyed wife goodbye and headed towards town. Windshield wipers beating off the deluge, I was thankful to have four-wheel drive on my six-mile trek to the church.

As I arrived, I was greeted by many folks, confused and dazed, seeking the safety and refuge of higher ground. In utter dismay I listened to their stories of hopelessness, describing how they had heard children’s cries in the dark for help as they were being swept down the raging river. Later I would learn it had rained in excess of eleven inches in Blanco county, which adding to the already rain-soaked soil, caused the Blanco river to rise some forty-four feet above it’s normal flow. This sent a raging torrent of water right through the heart of Wimberley destroying around three hundred homes and damaging over one thousand.

By the time I made it to the bridge, the water had receded somewhat but was still at about bridge level. Peering through the darkness and blinding rain, it was heart breaking to see the carnage left behind. At first light I was able to take a few pictures that would reveal to the outside world the destructive power and force of a river raging out of control. Unbelievable! No doubt this event will be remembered in history as the great Memorial Day flood of 2015.

In the days that followed, an outpouring of help and assistance arrived. Together we mucked through the mud and debris. I was amazed to see that instead of moaning and complaining, everywhere I witnessed thankfulness and even rejoicing. I heard stories of people singing together, lifting praise to God, as they diligently scrubbed the mud-smeared floors. Everywhere we went we saw hope and heard words of life and encouragement. Neighbors and a community were drawn closer in the midst of this adversity. Sadly though, even at this writing, only a few bodies have been recovered while many are still lost.

Spending my childhood exploring every nook and cranny of this river, I felt a necessity to join in the search for the missing. It is somewhat overwhelming to see people’s lives scattered haphazardly along the riverbanks. In the midst of the search, my eye caught a glimpse of a toy jeep precariously navigating the muddy waters. I wondered at the hours of joy and laughter this jeep had left behind as it journeyed onward downstream toward the Gulf. I have been crossing this bridge into Wimberley for nearly a half a century. I think back through the years and realize I have history with this bridge. My parents crossed this bridge. The friends I grew up with crossed this bridge. My beautiful bride and myself crossed this bridge. My two strong sons crossed this bridge and someday their wives and children will cross this bridge. With the Lord’s blessing, I now call this “A Bridge of Hope.”

As I stand on the bridge looking upstream, to the north is Rio Bonito (Beautiful River) or rather where the cabins of this beautiful resort and refuge once stood. Countless families have vacationed there, played there, and swam in the river there while enjoying the peace and tranquility of this place. Our prayers are with the Meeks family who lost it all but still –ferociously- cling to faith and hope. Old timers spoke of a time when Rio Bonito was the Wimberley Rodeo Grounds. They laughed as they remembered and recounted stories of cowboys being tossed from their mounts into the river. Even earlier, this was rich and fertile farmland. Back when “cotton was king,” I am sure this land produced much needed wealth for struggling farmers and their families. Tall, majestic cypress trees lined the banks of the Blanco River and provided shade and beauty and enjoyment to all. Early Sunday morning floodwaters made a desolation of these beauties. Most are gone, washed downstream, left only to our memory. Some lay fallen on the banks destined for the chainsaw. Oddly enough a few chosen survivors remain. A couple of weeks ago, if you stood from my vantage point you would see these monarchs lining both sides of the river. All were adorned in beauty…tall, strong, majestic, reaching towards the heavens. By God’s grace why are some still standing and some are just a memory?

As I spoke, the land to the north is rich, deep and fertile soil allows the roots of these majesties to grow deep and strong, able to withstand the storm. In contrast, the south side is rocky, lacking depth of soil, causing the roots to be shallow, unable to withstand the storm. Both looked the same, strong and beautiful. The storm came and passed, only to reveal the true and hidden depth of these roots. Some remain, but sadly most are gone.

Years ago, Jesus sat in a boat and taught His followers with parables. He spoke of a farmer sowing seed. Some seed, He said, fell by the way, being gobbled up by birds. Some seed fell on rocky soil where the tree grew but when the storm came it had no depth of root and could not survive. Some seed grew up among the thorns and was choked out by the lure of this world. But still some found rich, deep, fertile soil and were able to withstand the storm and produce a whole lot of fruit.

So I stand on the bridge, teary eyed, looking at both sides of the river and I soberly ask myself this question, “Do my roots go deep in Christ? Are my roots strong enough and deep enough to remain through the storm? And if I remain, is there fruit that glorifies my Father in heaven?”

Those that have ears let them hear!

In these days and in the days to come, may your roots go deep in Jesus. May you stand strong and weather the coming storm. May your life and the lives around you produce bushels of fruit that glorify our Father in heaven. Let the name of the Lord be praised!

In Christ name, amen.

Please pray for Wimberley and the families of lost loved ones. Thank you so much. Bless you.

Grace be with you,

Jeff

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When Heaven Came to the Rez

March 27, 2015

Recently Julie and I loaded up our modern day Conestoga wagon and headed out to parts unknown. We paraded through the tourist lined streets of Fredricksburg. We precariously survived the oil patch around Pecos. We searched anxiously for encounters of the alien kind in Roswell. Then, on to Durango where we hiked the mountain trails and felt the warmth of hot spring water flowing right from the ground. Our next destination was Moab, Utah. We arrived just in time to make camp and explore the downtown area. Bright and early the next morning, we saddled up our white jeep “Betsy,” and following the advice of one of the locals, we excitedly entered into the Schafer Trial We were totally unprepared to experience the magnitude of God’s immense and breath-taking creation. Even now with the utmost honor I say, “Oh my God.”

The sheer rock faces stretching towards the sky to our right and the beautiful Colorado River canyon to our left reduced our language to one single word… “Wow.” We climbed pristine sand stone formations. We gawked at the high mountains stretching farther than our eyes could see. Very cautiously, we peeked over the “Thelma and Louise” cliff as we were reminded, cars really can’t fly. Behind us, any semblance of a road had disappeared hours ago and honestly it felt as though we were on another planet. The surroundings seemed lonely and desolate yet hauntingly beautiful. Just as we thought that our journey couldn’t have been any more thrilling, we entered the land of the switchback trials. Looking back I am sure even our donkey would balk at the challenge of the narrow and winding trail that lay before us. Deceptively, the barely jeep-wide trail lured us in until it was much too late to turn back. At one point Julie was pressed against the mountainside door and I am pretty sure I heard her praying and singing, “You make me brave, You make me brave, You make me brave!” I love my wife so much. She is brave and adventuresome and fun and she makes me laugh. She’s my best friend. Before we put Moab in our rear view mirror, I need to tell you at one point during our journey I was so overcome by the beauty and the immensity of what we saw that I choked back tears as I asked this age old question, “God…how big are you?”

With permanent smiles sculpted on our faces, we sadly said goodbye to Moab and pressed deeper into northern Utah. The main reason we embarked on this journey is that we were invited to be part of a prophetic team. Seven of us from Texas were asked to come and minister at a Native American Reservation in northern Utah. The commonality of our team wasn’t found in a church or an organization but rather in obedience to our Lord’s command to love. Our assignment was to teach and to equip, to encourage and give direction as well as to untangle a couple of balls of twine along the way. But as always, our main assignment was to love. All the people we met were so easy to love. They are kind and generous and loving and humble and fun to be with. They are honoring, quick to listen and quick to respond and they love to laugh. Looking into their eyes was like opening a aged storybook that spoke of so many heartaches but as well, so much joy. I am amazed at the depth of life and hope that lives in the heart of these people.

Our gathering drew Pastors and leaders not only from Utah, but from California, Colorado, Oklahoma and Arizona. I was surprised at so many different tribes represented among us, Ute, Navajo, Hopi, Kiowa, Comanche to name a few. I was reminded of the words from the “New Song” sung in Revelation that says, “…every tribe and tongue and people and nation.”                       

Mealtime was the best time for listening and sharing stories and really becoming immersed in the families and culture of our new found friends. The stories they tell are amazing and it is so much fun to laugh with these people. During the meetings we experienced traditional songs of worship in their native tongue, encouraging words, inspiring Spirit filled, Bible based teaching. However, our team did encounter a few mountain size challenges but all my wife could say on the trip home, about a million times I might add, was “Thank you God, thank you God, thank you God.” Our Papa God is so much bigger than any mountain we ever face! So…just one quick testimony and I will let you go. During the Friday night meeting, one of our team members, in obedience to Holy Spirit went forward and knelt before the leaders. Standing in the place of our forefathers, he repented for not honoring the Native American people, he repented for the lies, the broken contracts and for stealing their land, he repented for forcing their children into boarding schools, he repented for stealing their culture and destroying their way of life.

“Will you forgive us?” he asked the leaders. Then turning and addressing each and everyone, he said, “Will you forgive us.” Overwhelmingly, through tear filled eyes, the response of each and every one, young and old was, “Yes, we forgive you.” Even as I write this I can’t hold back the tears. In that one moment it was as if time stood still and the Lord Himself washed away the stains of many generations of devastating heartache and pain. Jesus truly is the Way, the Truth, the Life. There was not a dry eye in the entire building as pastors and leaders fell to their knees and mournfully wept with tears of healing, tears of freedom, tears of joy. Just like Jericho, the walls came down that night. Praise God!

Now, if you can imagine this…picture the floodgates of heaven opening up over that place…”Oh wow!” I will leave the rest to your own imagination but imagine what freedom looks like. Imagine what a bright light looks like as it invades the darkness. Imagine what love looks like! Listen…can you hear the sounds of freedom? I will tell you, it’s really loud and exuberant and thankful and joyful! This was a day when heaven came to the Rez! Please join me in shouting…

Thank you God! Thank you God! Thank You God!

Peace be with you. Jeff

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Mr. Walker

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Midnight Train

Every Thursday my wife, Julie, and I would rush home from work, grab some lawn chairs, an ice chest full of water and sodas, and head for our meeting place in the city. For a couple of years, a group of us met in a rustic open air pavilion which had formally served as train stop. Our little Thursday night family consisted mostly of the homeless scattered around town as well as students from the local University. We quickly discovered how much compassion and love the students had for the poor, the broken, the hurting and those deemed unlovable. Armed with only an acoustic guitar and the dim light from a Coleman lantern, we sang songs together trying our best to express our love to God. We told stories from the Bible, we prayed, we listened, we loved. If I could best describe what we experienced, it was raw, it was real and it was totally awesome!

Willie and Dee were regulars among our group. Willie tended to hang back in the shadows and just listen. Dee -mostly fueled by alcohol- was loud and boisterous. The couple made their castle out of a tattered nylon tent, placed strategically amongst the trees and out of site.

Safety being their main concern, this culture is under constant threat from other street people as well as park police. Every night, brown bagged tall boys and a few tokes would gently tuck them in.

One particular night, and this is where the story gets a little fuzzy, Dee apparently woke during the night with a craving for Dr. Pepper. Willie, kind as he was, lovingly obliged Dee by getting up and traipsing toward the store. Whether he was in a sleeping stupor or perhaps just intoxicated, no one really knows. Willie wandered into the path of an oncoming train.

We got the call about 5:00 A.M. that something had happened and if we could please come immediately to the hospital. Upon arriving, we found a few of our rag tag family in the parking lot, weeping and screaming and completely overcome with grief. All that we knew to do was pray. So we did. We all joined hands in a huge circle in the middle of the parking lot and we cried and we prayed. We said, “Lord please don’t let death take Willie apart from knowing your Son.” I learned something that morning as I held hands and prayed with drug addicts, thieves, alcoholics, abusers and abused, hurting people of all kinds. I learned that love and compassion still lives among the broken.

Willie had no family, so Julie and I were called back to talk to the surgeon in charge. He was a mountain of a man, in his seventies, well educated and well seasoned. After twelve hours of surgery he seemed a little dazed as we probed him for information. All this man could manage to say, over and over again was,

“I do not know how this man is alive.”

A large portion of Willie’s skull cap was removed due to swelling. His collar bone was crushed. His shoulder was separated and his arm was shattered. His ribcage was completely separated from his body. His pelvic area was crushed and his hip was separated and completely crushed to pieces.

Even more, both of Willie’s legs were cut off by the train. Now my thoughts began to echo that of the surgeon, “How could Willie still be alive?” It was at that moment I remembered our rag tag, parking lot prayer meeting. God’s mercy surely endures forever!

We were told Willie’s recovery in the hospital alone would last one to two years if he even made it at all. So all we could do was trust in the Lord and take one day at a time. Many of the University students took up a banner for Willie, spending hours in the waiting room singing songs of praise and praying. Step by step we began to see God’s mighty hand of healing and grace at work. We would simply ask the nurses and doctors, “OK, what’s next?” We would pray and God would respond. Things like Willie had lost his swallow reflex and could only be fed through a tube. He could barely talk, only in a slight whisper but we knew he needed solid food to gain strength and besides, he was hungry. So we just asked God to restore his ability to swallow.

The next day, my phone rings, “Hey Jeff this is Willie. I just finished eating real food.” Mouth wide open, I murmured, “Praise God!” Somewhere in the midst of all this, Willie had an encounter with the Son of God. Many times we would quietly sneak into his room thinking he was asleep. Eyes closed, huge smile, Willie would be reciting over and over again, “I love you Jesus, I love you Jesus, I love you Jesus.”

Three months had passed when we got the news. “Willie is being discharged from the hospital and going home.” Willie and Dee moved into a small trailer, a little worn but it was home. I wish this was the part where I could say, “happily ever after,” but unfortunately a lifetime of woundedness, selfishness and addiction overtook the couple again. “Even when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, You are with me.” Our lives with Willie and Dee seemed to move in different directions. Hope and trust told us they would be OK.

A few weeks ago, my wife ran into Willie and Dee at the grocery store. Hugs and tears and laughter all around, it was a glorious reunion! Julie said they both looked good and healthy and happy. There was something new and different about them. They were finally free. They said there was no more drinking or drugs in their life. In fact they were taking care of their grandchildren and even buying them a birthday cake decorated with a nativity scene. Dee’s soul was at peace and her heart was full of joy. Willie had new legs and a new life. So their story continues and what I have gained from all this is, life matters.

Their life matters and your life matters. A smile. A kind word. A simple prayer.

Please know…your life matters!

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A Good Friend

This morning I had an informal meeting with a good friend and as most mornings, I was running a little late. I can get easily distracted with this that and every little thing, besides, somehow the clock just seems to turn much faster these days. As I hurried to meet Him, there He was, standing some distance away under the most majestic looking Oak tree. Some people might be a little frustrated at having to wait, but not this friend, He just smiled the biggest smile ever and gave me a huge welcoming hug. Something inside me melted and all I could feel was ahhh! Don’t you love those special people in your life? Every time they meet you they are genuinely happy, ecstatically so, at merely seeing you. I truly love that! So together we began to walk down a well worn trail, through overhanging trees and entered into a lush, green pasture. Quietly, even silently, we just enjoyed each others company. After a while, He spoke up and asked me, “If you could go anywhere, where would you like to go?” I said, “I really like the beach and the ocean. I might like to live there someday.” He said, He liked the waves because they were always moving and always changing. He liked the wind, the way it felt on His face. He liked all the fish and birds and sea creatures everywhere. As we kept on walking, I noticed my soul was at peace. The trail led us to a gently running stream. It’s banks were lined with mountainous Cypress trees. Enormous rocks rose from the midst of the water and stood stately like statues, ever watching, ever guarding. As my eyes turned back to Him, I was a bit surprised when He pulled out His fly casting rod and said, “Let’s fish awhile.” I stood back a distance and marveled at a Master at work. He can totally make that fly dance across the water, almost musical in nature. The fly would tumble forward in a continuous rolling motion before gently touching down precisely on the mark. Oddly enough, he developed that move by watching the waves roll onto the beach. Honestly, I was completely captivated and somewhat awestruck. Time stood still as I gazed upon a man in long shorts, with stringy dark hair, standing in knee deep water having the time of His life! He was filled with so much joy and totally consumed in the moment. I want to be like Him. He wasn’t worried about politics, or the failing economy, or oil prices, or food shortages, or world crisis. Instead His soul was at peace, completely confident, strong yet humble, wise and compassionate, happy and full of life. Being close to Him makes me feel happy and at peace. Later, we sat on a rock where I listened and I could hear His heart on a few things. At one point, I even saw a tear trickle down his face. He told me how he helped His Father build His house and spoke of the exactness of every little detail. I said, “That house sounds wonderful and I would love to see it sometime.” He said, “Come see it anytime you want.” That left me speechless. About that time He brought out lunch, figs of all things, and some kind of juice called Guava berry. It was sweet and tangy and kind of like sparkling water. It was very refreshing. All in all, it was the best of days, spent with my very best friend. He is just so trustworthy and giving and fun to be with. He has forever engraved a picture in my heart of His glistening eyes, His strong hands and His perpetual smile. I am completely overwhelmed by his friendship and by his love. Most assuredly, He is the Prince of Peace.